A PL O'Hara or Alan Rickman fantasy
by rickfan37
Summary: A short descriptive piece inspired by Alan Rickman's film An Awfully Big Adventure, and what PL got up to in the missing years. To be expanded, eventually!


After lunch she wandered through the great oak doors on to the forecourt. She looked up at the almost cloudless sky and wondered whether or not he would seek her out this time, as had become his habit when he was not on set. People had begun to whisper about them, she knew, and secretly it thrilled her. She drew her jacket around her, and set off toward the rolling lawns, beyond which were the still waters of the loch. She walked slowly, apparently deep in thought, but in reality straining her ears for the sound of footsteps behind her, crunching on gravel. He did not disappoint her. As he called her name she turned, smiled, walking backwards now in order to enjoy the sight of his slow jog towards her. Her body tingled as he gazed down at her, his eyes burning golden in the pale spring sunlight, his hair dancing in the breeze. Wordlessly, they continued towards the loch which was swollen with the torrential rains of a long Scottish winter. The bench towards which they were heading was at its very edge now, and swans were gliding silently through the trees mere feet away.   
In unspoken agreement, they sat. They did not comment on the beauty of their surroundings, the perfection of the mountains' reflections in the water, the mildness of the temperature. These were all subjects they had exhausted in previous afternoons, when words had been needed. They were not needed now, and yet it could not be said that their silence was companionable, for it was not. That would suggest that they were each relaxed and easy in the other's company. In fact, the tension between them had become almost palpable, a delicious yearning that both were trying, and failing, to hide.   
She remembered his kiss the evening before. It had been brief, the merest brushing of lips on lips, but the memory of it made her tremble. He noticed her shiver, and mistook its meaning, removing his grey cashmere scarf to place it round her shoulders. As his arms began to enfold her, their eyes met, for only the second time that afternoon, only the second time since their kiss. For an endless moment they drank one another in, and then she reached up to trace the line of his cheek with her fingers. He enfolded her hand in his, pressing it to his cheek and kissing her palm, then drew her to him and kissed her lips, hesitantly at first but then deeply and hungrily as their passion grew. 

She let herself sink deeper and deeper into his embrace until she was certain she would swoon. She wanted to draw away from him, to regain her sense of herself, but at the same time she exulted in the sensations coursing through her body and clung to him mindlessly. An eternity later, or an instant, she could not tell, he ended their kiss and, resting his chin on her head, began to stroke her long chestnut hair. She buried her face in his neck and breathed him in, a scent of soap and a trace of citrus. She kissed his neck lightly and felt the moan in his throat before it issued from his mouth. His fist clenched convulsively around her hair, and he drew her head back so that their eyes could meet once more. Green eyes met gold, searching and questioning. Words were not needed. 

He stood, reached out his hand for hers, and together they retraced their steps to the hotel. She was acutely aware of his hand in hers, and wondered whether he was as nervous as she. The glances they stole became of ever-longer duration, and by the time they reached the lift they could not take their eyes off each other. His burned into hers with an intensity that made her heart race, and she was grateful when, once in the lift, his arm snaked around her waist and she could sink against him, no longer trusting her legs to support her. She reached up to his face, turning it so that she could kiss him, with abandon now as a white-hot passion overwhelmed her until she could barely breathe, such was his effect on her.   
Suddenly the lift jerked to a stop, and they drew apart. She gazed at him, flushed and breathless, and he gazed back at her with a raging need in his eyes.. They exited the lift and, once the doors had closed behind them, hiding them from the view of those guests who had just entered it, they moved together and as he clutched her to him she could feel his need for her. Wordless still, they unlocked the door to his room and went inside.   
  
*************************************************************   
  
When she awoke, it was almost dark outside. The only light in the room came from a small lamp in the corner. It cast a soft, pinkish glow on to the crisp white linen sheets which half covered her. She sighed and turned her head, seeing the form of his long, lean body outlined by those same sheets. She raised herself up on one elbow, and leant across to kiss him lightly high on his cheek, her nose gently nuzzling the greying hair on his temple. He made a low, murmuring sound deep in his throat, and stirred slightly. 

She smiled at him as he slept on, unable to remember the last time she had felt so happy, so fulfilled. Her face only inches away from his, she gazed at his profile and marvelled. He truly was exceptional, and in repose his countenance was both noble and somehow childlike.   
She slid off the bed and padded silently into the bathroom, coming out again a few minutes later wrapped in a large white towelling bathrobe. He shifted and sighed, stretching out his arm to where she had lain. She tiptoed to the doors which opened on to the balcony and, opening one as quietly as she could, slipped out. The evening air was cool, the slight breeze brushing against her legs and making her pull the robe more tightly around herself.   
She stood, enjoying the darkening view of the loch through the trees, and the mountains beyond, and replayed in her mind's eye the last few hours. Lost in her delicious reverie, she was startled by the sound of the door opening, and she turned to find him standing just inside, peering out at her.   
"What are you _doing_ out here? It's freezing, you'll catch your death!" he grumbled. She laughed as he stepped out to her, complaining as his bare feet met the cold wooden slats of the balcony. She took him in her arms and stood on tiptoes, kissing him playfully on the nose. He grinned and held her tightly, pulling her closer and burying his face in her hair.   
"I woke up and you weren't there!" he complained. "I thought you'd gone."   
"You won't get rid of me that easily," she replied. "Not now I know what you can do to me!"   
"You mean, what we can do together," he corrected her, gazing meaningfully into her eyes before kissing her deeply. Her body, already moulded into his by the strength of his embrace, seemed to melt against his as the kiss grew in passion. At last, he pushed her gently away, holding her hips and saying,   
"You know, I'm not kidding, it really _is_ freezing out here! We _are_ in Scotland! Come back inside and warm me up!"   
"What, again?" she retorted, mischievously, and followed him back into the bedroom.   
"We missed dinner." she noted. "Do you think anyone noticed?"   
"Undoubtedly" he replied. "Are you hungry? We could get something brought up to the room."   
"Starving. I'm so hungry I could eat a whole actor!"   
He threw back his head with an exuberant guffaw, grabbed her round the waist and fell with her on to the soft leather of the couch.   
"That could be arranged," he intoned in a low voice, as she gazed down at him, "but first let's have dinner!"   
She kissed him deeply and they grinned at one another. Now the initial anticipation of their union was at last behind them, and their passion sated for the time being, they became once again each easy in the other's company, their mood relaxed and playful.   
Room service arrived swiftly and they talked and laughed about the previous day's events as they ate. Afterwards, they curled up together on the couch with glasses of red wine still half full. She leant against him, his right arm around her shoulder and her head on his chest.   
"Will you stay?" he asked quietly. The question was deceptive in its simplicity. She turned to face him, saw the unspoken words in his expression.   
"Yes." She whispered. Yes, she would stay tonight. And yes, she would stay for a lifetime if that was what he wanted. She was his, and his embrace told her that he was hers, too.


End file.
